Mary Alice, Full of Grace the Afterparty :
by AsHisTreasured
Summary: Missing moments and later additions to Mary Alice, Full of Grace- starting with Jasper asking Alice on her first date! May or may not fit in the final story line :)
1. First Date

So, here it is! The first of a few one shots and missing moments that I'll be offering throughout the story :) it takes place way in the future... probably after the end of Mary Alice. Enjoy! You all earned it!

*_*Jasper*_*

We've fallen into a familiar pattern now. I stay downstairs while she gets ready for bed, and then come up after she's all settled in. It gives her a bit of time alone to process the day, as well as some privacy to get ready for bed, and it gives me a minute downstairs alone to discuss anything I need to with any of the others who go to school all day. She's gotten used to the concept that I might not want to say everything I need to around her, the same way that sometimes she needs time to talk to Rosalie or Esme without me around. Of course, it's for an entirely different reason, but it's part of the give and take of our routine.

Tonight I need the time more than usual, I've been working over an idea in my mind and I'm looking for advice. I even talked to Esme about it earlier, swearing her to secrecy, but I was hoping to catch Edward for a minute before I talked to Alice. Although I'm sure that Esme hasn't said anything out loud, I can't begrudge her gushing in her thoughts, so I'm assuming Edward already knows what I want to talk to him about. I figure that the only one in the house who knows her opinions and thoughts better than I do is him, so who better to ask?

I turn the corner and nearly run into him. I guess I've been more involved in my thoughts than I realized, I didn't even hear him walking toward me, which would have been pretty obvious if I was paying attention.

"Edward" I greet, trying to play off the fact that I nearly ran into him even though I could've heard him from the next block.

He smiles, obviously hearing both my current monologue and knowing what I want to speak with him about. "Jasper. Do you want to head outside for a minute?"

"Sure, of course." Outside would be a good plan, I need to stay close enough to hear when she's ready for bed, but I'd like to get far enough away to speak without her being able to hear me. I follow him out to the tree line. It seems close to me, but I know that he can hear from her thoughts that she can't make out words from this far, so it's far enough.

"You wanted to talk to me?"

"Um, yeah. You already know what I've been thinking. Do you think it's a good idea? Has she thought about it? You think it's too much?" I know that I'm asking everything all at once, but I'm nervous to hear the answer. I feel like a child asking permission, but I push the thought aside. Edward knows how she thinks better than I do; it's just smart to get an idea of the terrain rather than marching in blindly.

"Depending on your timing, I think it'll go fine. She's pretty tired already tonight, so maybe not yet, but I think she'll be happy when you ask. She's been waiting for you to decide for a bit now. She still isn't sure about her visions, but she almost went looking just to see when you'd ask and if she'd be okay. She's definitely been thinking about it and she wants to be alright with it. I think it'll be fine."

"Thanks, Edward. I know that hearing everything puts you unfairly in the middle sometimes, but that really is helpful. I wish that things could be different before I ask, but I guess perfect doesn't come in real life, we've just got to work with what we've got."

"Yeah, I think you're right about that."

With a final nod I head back toward the house. She's almost done getting ready and I want to make sure to be there right when she finishes, to spend as much time as I can with her before she falls asleep. These times are some of my favorite with her. The guarded, daytime Alice melts away into silly, childlike half-asleep Alice, and I can imagine that maybe that is the Alice that she was as a child, before any of this happened to her.

When I hear the bathroom door open, I shoot one last look at Edward and he gives me a reassuring nod. I head toward the stairs and make it to her room in no time, tapping on the door before she even makes it over to the bed.

"Okay, come in Mr. Impatient." She whispers, giggling slightly to herself as she falls unceremoniously onto the giant bed. I push open the door and walk over to her, pulling back the covers on the bed and setting her under them. I know that she gets cold sleeping without them, and when she flops down on top of them like that she's usually too tired to figure out how to get out from on top of them before she goes to sleep, so I've taken it upon myself to make sure she makes it all the way into the bed before she passes out.

When she's properly situated I sit down against the foot of the bed and she scoots over until her head is resting on my calf. I can clearly feel the heat of her skin through the thin fabric, but I can't let myself get distracted by it. I've discovered that sitting next to her against the bed from is a bad idea, as she would often end up sprawled across my lap in her sleep, which is hardly ideal for trying to get… comfortable… to stay there with her through the night. Tonight especially, I need to keep my focus.

"So, how was your snack with Rose?"

She says something nearly incomprehensible, but I think I decipher the word 'nummy'. I can't exactly tell because the end is swallowed by a giant yawn.

"I'm glad you two have been having such a good time. You didn't seem as riled up today when you came home. Is that a good sign?"

I should have known not to ask her a question that requires a real response. She murmurs something into the pillow she's pulled over to lay on top of my leg and turns her face back toward me, but her eyes are closed.

I can't help but smile at the sight, she has her fluffy pillow folded over my leg, her face pressed half into it and her arm looped into the crook of my knee like a security blanket.

"That good, huh?"

"Don't make fun of me Mr. 'lock. I beat you up." Although she slurs them a little, the words are separate enough to understand this time. I think she comes up with a new name for me nearly every night she's really tired. Although I would never admit this to anyone, I keep a complete list of them in my mind and they're one of my favorite things about my name. I mentally add that one near the top.

"You beat me up, huh? How you gonna do that?" I imitate her soft speech and missing words, hoping to keep her for just a few minutes more before she falls asleep completely.

"You're gonna let me." She replies in nearly one connected word, as if that was obviously the answer. I smile, of course that would be her response.

"Don't be so sure about that, princess. You're going to have to work for it."

"Princesses live in castles 'n go to balls." I have no idea where that came from, but I guess it's a logical response, sort of.

"And you don't, Alice?"

"Nope. Gotta stay home and do homework so I don't become Princess Dropout."

"Is she related to the princess on Emmett's game? Or maybe the one on that board game… how about the one from that book you like?" She gives me a look, but it's hardly stern as she's only employing the use of the eye not covered in the pillow. Somehow fierce doesn't exactly come across in only one drooping eyelid.

"Besides, you don't even have school tomorrow, and it's Carlisle and Esme's hospital event, so it's our day off."

She turns her head farther into the pillow and mutters something that sounds curiously like "this math is trying to eat me". I don't think that could be right, but I can't put any other English words together when the sounds I've just heard, so I guess that's what she said.

"Math, Alice? What are you talking about?"

She turns her head back toward me, and out of the pillow, before she replies slowly and dramatically, but with her eyes still closed. "So much math to do. They must be tryin' a kill me."

I can't help the small chuckle that escapes at this. She's been having trouble keeping up with Edward's advanced class since the beginning, but only she would tell me that the math was trying... to eat her. It's just so typically her.

"Sounds like you need a prince to save you from your homework." I lean forward and tap her head gently and she throws her free arm out blindly, trying to swat my hand away but managing to just barely miss whacking her fingers on the oak headboard instead.

"You better be careful or you're going to be beating yourself up. Keep your hands to yourself, little miss."

I think she intends to stick her tongue out at me, but she loses interest before she even gets her face far enough away from the pillow and falls back.

"'re not the prince, you're the dragon," she tells me. Her tone is probably meant to be matter of fact, but I can hear the smile creeping in.

"Well, would the dragon take you to the ball?" I ask, sliding the silver and white slips of paper into what would be her line of sight, should she open her eyes.

"No, the dragon would eat the 'rincess. But if I'm not her, I guess 'm safe."

"You must be the she-dragon then. Rose will be very disappointed to learn she's been dethroned. So, are you going to come with me, or not?"

She smiles her silly, half smile, but still doesn't open her eyes.

"I don't know about you, Major-major, but this scaly creature will be getting beat up by chem-stry tomorrow. No banquest for me." I'm assuming that was intended to be 'banquets', but the slur is catching back up with her again. I've also apparently been graced with a second name in the same night. I don't stop to consider how she found out my rank. I operate under the assumption that she knows a lot more about my past than what I've told her, and I try not to think about how she came upon some of the specifics.

"Well, I guess I'll just have to find someone else to take to the hospital gala tomorrow. It's going to be terribly dull sitting there for hours listening to how much Rosalie despises me."

Finally, one eye pops open, followed immediately by the other as soon as she sets sight on the tickets lying next to her on the pillow.

"But I thought you couldn't go? I thought none of us could?"

"I couldn't very well let you miss it, now could I? But it's only fair that I warn you, I intend to take a date."

Her face falls immediately, and I wonder what I've said wrong. I wanted her to know that I'm asking her out, not just inviting her to an event along with me. I'd figured out that the whole family usually goes to these events after it'd already been decided that we wouldn't. They'd assumed that I wouldn't be comfortable being around that many people, so they'd all agreed to only have Carlisle and Esme attend so Alice or I wouldn't feel left out. I've been mentally preparing myself for a while, and I should be fine for a few hours as long as I get outside every once in a while and come well fed. I want to do this for Alice. Which brings me back to the present; why is she looking at me like someone just drained her puppy?

"Of course. I mean, I understand. It's fine." Suddenly very awake, she's backpedaling. Did she not want to go? I already had Rosalie pick her out a dress for the event; I hope I didn't overstep.

"Wait, Alice, what's wrong? Don't you want to go with me? Of course we don't have to, we could go somewhere else too, I just thought it'd be somewhere you'd enjoy and it wouldn't be too much pressure, you know? Please tell me what you're thinking."

Before she has a chance to answer, I hear a loud crash, followed by the light sound of falling glass. It sounds like someone… threw a vase… at the ceiling below our room? What in the world? I don't have to wonder long, because Rosalie takes her chance at my attention, whispering harshly under her breath.

"You just told her you're taking someone else, dimwit."

"Wait, Alice, no. I meant that I want you to come as my date. Damn, I'm terrible at this. I like you, and I know that you might not be ready for anything like this and if not I totally understand and I don't want to push you and I mean if you don't want to now, I'd totally understand. I'm sorry, I know I'm messing this up, I just would really like it if I could take you somewhere significant and we could have a real first date like normal people and it was supposed to be all sweet and special and now it's just a mess-"

She cuts off my string of run-on sentences and incoherent rambling with a hand over my mouth. I dare a glance at her eyes to find her staring right back at me.

"Yes." I don't know what she's answering, so I double check, just in case.

"Yes?" I verify, going through everything I said to make sure an affirmative answer to any of it couldn't mean rejection.

"Yes. I'd love to go with you tomorrow. It sounds amazing. Yes, I'd love to go on a date with you; I thought you'd never ask. Yes, I may need more time than most to adjust to some things, but we'll deal with them as they come. Yes, I want you, whatever it takes to get there, whatever I have to work out to make that happen, I will."

And just like that, she meets me halfway, just like she always does. I just made a fool of myself trying to ask her out and she responds by validating every concern I had and making it seem like I actually said something in all of the earlier incoherence. She's too good to me.

*_*Alice*_*

I glance at the mirror for what feels like the millionth time tonight. I think I could probably recount every seam of my outfit with perfect accuracy if needed. Jasper asked Rosalie to pick out a suitable dress for me, and although I trust that this may be suitable for the occasion, it is nothing that I would have ever imagined myself wearing. I tug at the bottom hem of the dress, as if repeating the action enough times might actually make it grow longer. The deep forest green is striking. Again, nothing I would have picked for myself, but a beautiful shade. If there were more of it, I might really like the dress. It comes just above my knees in a style that Rosalie has repeatedly assured me is not only acceptable for a formal occasion such as this, but fashionable. I've tried to tell her that I'd prefer… pretty much anything else, but my pleas have fallen on deaf ears. So here I am, wearing the thing. The neckline is squared just below my collarbone, showing more of my shoulders than would ever be seen in a normal state of dress, and my translucent skin nearly lights up next to the dark of the green trim.

An elaborate, and probably way too expensive, necklace hangs around my neck in a polished black color. It's a thick choker that loops down a few inches, laying flat against my skin. Both of the things she's told me about it I suspect to be false, the first that it already belonged to her and therefore didn't cost anything and the second that it was inexpensive anyway. I am almost certain that it is fitted to me, and therefore would not fit her, and the weight of the stones and material in the piece easily give away its value. In the center of the intricate weave of metal, stone and ribbon, hanging at the hollow of my throat, is the Cullen family crest, another reason I have my doubts about its ownership. Rose wears the symbol on a ring she never removes, and it is hardly a trinket to add to any jewelry. The final reason I suspect this to be untrue is how perfectly the piece covers the scar on my neck. It isn't large enough to be ostentatious about it; the delicate designs just barely cover the scar. I doubt that jewelry is often made that fits that description, and doubt even more that if it were, Rose would have any use for it. I think she plans on "springing the news" of its real ownership to me after tonight, but I'm already on to her.

If nothing else, I'm thankful that she had the foresight to make a way that he wouldn't have to be reminded of his first failing with me tonight, of all nights. He tries to hide it, but I see it in his eyes every time he lays eyes on that scar. If not for the self hatred that it embodies to him, I really wouldn't mind it. I have worse, and honestly, it brought me him in the end. I could look at it and see the good that came from it. I hardly remember its creation, anyway. It was hardly a traumatic experience. Having to see Jasper's response so many times, however, has made me hate it. If ripping it from my skin would make it disappear, I would. I hate that he looks at me and finds a way to berate himself, so this necklace is probably never coming off. It's beautiful and complicated and it covers the disgust with himself he conjures every time he looks at the scar.

Although I am less than grateful for the shred of fabric Rose has picked out for me to wear as a dress, I'm incredibly indebted for the jewelry. This, more than anything else, will ensure that we actually get a first date tonight.

After another unsure glance at the length of the dress, I pull myself away from the mirror. No one there will know that I'm any different than any of them, that I have scars to hide. Tonight I don't have to be the Alice that everyone knows and tiptoes around, I can be the Alice that the kids at school will never see, the one who can just be on a date, enjoying herself. I will not let my mind ruin this for me. I, Alice Brandon Cullen, am going out on a date. Me, a date! I never would have believed it a few short months ago. Not only am I going on a date, I'm going on a date with Jasper, an incredibly nice looking man who really cares about me and I really care about too. I don't have to be who I've been, careful and afraid. I can choose to be different, normal, happy, at least for a few hours.

When I'm tempted to turn back to the mirror one more time, I quickly turn it around to face the wall. I look good, if I do say so myself, and I'm not going to worry about it one more second. I sit down on the bed, and busy myself carefully winding the intricate leaf-like straps of the deep green high heels around my ankle and calf the way Rosalie showed me. The task completed, I lay back on my bed to wait for Jasper to finish whatever it is he's been doing and come get me. It shouldn't be long, he said he'd pick me up at six, and it's nearly five fifty now. I close my eyes and try to picture him dressed up for such an occasion as this. I can't, really, but everything I picture him in he looks pretty good.

I remember when Cynthia and I would talk about the sort of men we would court when we finally grew old enough to take suitors. We had it all figured out in our sage preschool years. We catalogued hair and eye color, height and build. We wrote out their lines in our minds and made lists of acceptable names. We were so young then. I wonder if Cynthia ever married, if she found a man with a name on that list, if she ended up having the number of children she'd decided on and named them from the lists we made so long ago. Jasper certainly wouldn't have fit well in the company of my imagined princes, but I was six, what did I know about how to find a hero? After years, decades, even a whole lifetime, I'm finally figuring out what I should have been looking for all along. I may not have known at six, or even sixty, but now I'm beginning to catch on. If I could go back and make that list now, it would look a lot different. It would describe someone a lot closer to Jasper than the tall dark and handsome cardboard cutout named Mark, Paul or Jonathan.

Nothing is as black and white as it was when I was younger; something about being in the sort of situations that most people only read about in the papers changes everything. I've learned over the years that fairy tales only look perfect from the outside. Real life, real happiness, is harder, less predictable, more harsh and gritty and so much sweeter because of it. The best times can't be explained to an outside observer, the times that literally take your breath away and make even the most eloquent stumble for words. When he walked into the café, when I finally gathered the courage to wait somewhere until he came, that was one of those moments. Although there have been so many others in between, last night, when he finally gathered the nerve to ask me, was another.

Somehow, however tonight goes, I know that it'll be another one of those times. I hear the steps, coming upstairs. It's time. He's coming for me. He may not be the prince I thought I wanted as a child; he isn't my favorite six crayons and the thick, dark, simple coloring book outlines that were all I knew. He's so much better; the real life version in a thousand nuances of color and the scars to prove that he's really been through life. The kind of scars that convince me it's alright to have my own. I take a deep breath and stand, carefully smoothing out the tiny creases from sitting back in the delicate fabric. I don't even glance at the mirror, still turned away from me, as I walk slowly but deliberately to the door. He's everything I never knew I needed, and I feel the same sense of destiny tonight that I've felt only a few times in my existence. This is significant… in that same sort of inexplicable way and I know that whatever happens, I'll never forget this exact moment. He takes the last step to the door and I open it before he can knock.

His eyes widen as he takes in the ensemble Rose has put together at the same time as my eyes trace his pressed black tux. Tonight he looks like the prince I thought I wanted, black and white, predictable and presentable. But deep in his eyes I can see the gray, the spark of life, the real Jasper. Behind the portrait of a hero lies the real thing, and with that assurance I put my hand in his.

Whatcha think? You should let me know because I love hearing it :)

Manda


	2. Training with Jasper

Well, here's my apology one shot :) Some of them don't really fit anywhere, they're more drabbles, and this is one of those. It may or may not fit in later, we'll see :) Anyway, sorry for the forever long delay, I love you all!

Manda

* * *

**Alice**

"Oh darlin', I don't think that will be necessary."

His cold words more than echo, my mind filling in scenarios almost as fast as I can will them away. I know I'm safe, in the same way I know that I'm not with _him_ anymore, but the logic doesn't change the reaction.

Training with him has been brutal. They saved him for last for a reason. I thought it would have been easier to start with him, rather than with Edward, but they were wise to wait. It's torturous. The first few days I couldn't make it past the warmups Rose has me run, I just couldn't do it with him there. Being in the room reminds me why I'm doing this in the first place, and being there with him was just too much. I was so scared that he went way too easy on me when he finally stayed, it wasn't really helping me learn anything. Unfortunately, that was the least of my problems. When Rose called him on it I learned that the Major only has two settings: on and off.

I remember when I first started seeing him, the visions I would get of him with Maria, with the newborns, but seeing it in my mind and experiencing it firsthand are two entirely different things. The day after Rose confronted him I fell apart. I made it through my stretches with him out of the room, but as soon as he walked in, it was like a switch had been flipped. His eyes were cold and dark, his expression lifeless. When he looked at me I didn't recognize him, I only saw James. I stumbled and fell, staying on the ground, cowering like a pathetic child even though he was still across the room from me. When he registered that my reaction was to him, the mask slipped, but only for a moment as he was probably reminding himself that we're doing this for my benefit.

Seeing him switch so quickly between concerned and lifeless did me in for the day. I couldn't get myself together again until after he left the room and Rosalie talked me down for most of an hour. Nevertheless, the next day we tried it again. I cursed Rose and her promise-eliciting ways, but I knew that I had to do it. The next few days weren't much better, making it only a few minutes into the workout before I melted down and needed Esme or Rose to talk me back.

Even now, a few weeks into it, I still panic more than once a session. The holds are harder than the rest, it's almost impossible to block the memories of being restrained, and knowing that it's Jasper holding me down, and Jasper in his battle mode at that, has been ample fuel for the nightmares and flashbacks lately, but I'm getting better at regaining mental control.

Although he doesn't show it, I can tell that the whole ordeal is grueling for Jasper, too. I see his haunted expression when he paces outside the room after the sessions, waiting for Esme or Rose to talk me down enough so that I can see him again without panicking. I want to go to him, but every time I try to gather the courage I am assaulted by images of the terrifying Jasper with his cold, blank expression and I can't bring myself to do it. Sometimes I catch Edward hanging around and I know that at least part of the time Jasper has Edward listen in on my dreams so he can wake me if they're getting too bad. I haven't slept through the night since I began training with Jasper.

He's been quieter, especially when we're alone. It's like he's waiting for me to freak out and run away, even when we're just sitting together. I have to admit, the flashbacks still come, even when we're not doing anything related. I guess he has reason to be wary.

All of the building stress has caused me to beg both Rosalie and Jasper to reconsider, but each maintains that this is what has to happen for me to get better. Rose says that if I can fight back against Jasper, I can hit anyone. At first, I wasn't sure what she meant, but now, seeing him at his fiercest, I understand. Being cornered by anyone else would seem like a walk in the park compared to coming up with the courage to try to fight back against him when he's like that.

I think the times that make it the hardest on him are when I can't fight back. It happened a lot in the beginning, but it still happens now. I can't even get myself away from him, I just lie on the ground and beg him not to hurt me; it's pathetic. I hate myself for being so weak, but my mind screams so loud in self-preservation that I can't ignore it. The expression on his face when I give up is devastating. It's the one time that his composure always slips. He isn't allowed to be the one to comfort me, Rose says that it's essential to keep his image when we're training together, that he can't go back to the Jasper I'm used to until we get back to our room, but he can never save face when I do that, which is how I know that it's killing him. I can't even imagine how terrible this must be for him, I try to put myself in his position, representing the abuser to him, but I can't really wrap my mind around it. I know that he's giving up a lot for me to do this; I just hope that it'll be worth it in the end.

Outside of our sessions, I've never seen him like that toward me. I'm secretly terrified that someday he'll get sick of being so careful with me and I'll trade James for him. I know it's irrational, but when I look into his cold, dead eyes, I can believe it. I imagine it's what a rodent feels like staring into the eyes of a cobra in its last moments of life.

I realize a minute late that I've hesitated too long, his arms tightening slightly to bring me back. The composure hasn't slipped yet, but I know it's on the way. I have to pull myself together. _Oh darlin', I don't think that will be necessary._

Present. I have to stay with it. It's Jasper, even if it's demon Jasper, pull it together. I try to move right, but a simple flex of his arm keeps me in place.

"Down" he whispers instruction, a hint of sorts. I try to place what he told me, relaxing my body to get him to relax his grip. I get my fist between his arm and body, next to my shoulder, and let myself fall, moving my hand in front of me to stop him from catching my neck as his arm tightens, my hand replacing my neck in his grip as I duck away and swing with my other arm. I throw my elbow toward his face, finding myself already in a better position, even if he dodges it easily, releasing one hand and catching my elbow instead, forcing me to stay close.

"Is that all you got, Angel?"

This time I do lose it, and he releases me, walking out without a backward glance, to get one of the others no doubt.

It became obvious early on that my trigger of intimate language and violence was going to be a problem, but no one other than Jasper was willing to push me on it, making his sessions way worse. He doesn't know which ones _he_ used, but he's finding them out fast. Rosalie insists that he continues, however, as it's a common tactic of predators, according to her.

I don't know if I'm ever going to be able to get past that one, truthfully. I guess we'll see.

When I'm finally done with my crying fit for the day I shower and change in Esme's room and go looking for him.

He's in our room, where he usually is. He does it so I'll know where to look for him if I want him… and where to avoid if I can't handle seeing him yet. He's so much better than I deserve. He doesn't move when I enter the room, his eyes fixed out the window that I spent so much time staring out. He's giving me the chance to get what I need and leave again, in case I didn't come to the room to engage him. I cross the room slowly, coming to stand behind him. He still doesn't move or speak. The top of my head is nearly level with his when he's sitting. I pull a hand through his hair gently and some of the tension in his shoulders relaxes. I hate that I'm doing this to him, but I know that it's his decision as much as mine.

"Jasper, I'm so sorry."

"It's not your fault, love, it's his."

I wrap my arms around his shoulders, my fingers not quite meeting at the center of his chest. He melts into my embrace, maintaining his posture enough to keep most of his weight off of me.

"I wish you didn't have to do this. It's too much to ask."

"I'd rather it be me. I have to know that I've done everything I can to keep you safe, I don't trust anyone else."

"I thought training with Edward was hard."

"I remember. At least I was able to be there for you afterward. That's what I hate most about our sessions. I can't even stay to repair the damage I've done. I just have to leave you there, alone and afraid."

"I know you have to leave, I understand."

"I don't want you to have the image of me walking away from you. I will never leave you like that, I promise."

"I know. It's a different Jasper that trains with me, I see it in your eyes. I've never seen him outside of my visions and that room."

"I can't do it any other way, I have to lock my emotions away to go through with it, I know what I'm doing to you and I hate it. I wish I was strong enough to be there for you but I can't. That Jasper is a killer, evil and unfeeling. You deserve better than that, even when we're training. I can feel your fear; see every time you picture me as him, and I can't do this any other way, it's too much."

"I hate that I'm afraid. I know it's you, you'd never hurt me."

"I need you to believe that I would when we're in there. It's not your fault. That was me for a long time; you have every reason to be frightened. I don't know which part of myself is truly me. Maybe the fear is more warranted than the trust."

"No. I will not have you doubt yourself because of this. I know you've done horrible things. That doesn't make them you. I know you, I see you, and you're not the man I encounter in that room."

"I've been with you for moments, Alice, in the scheme of things. What if I go back?"

"You won't. People don't change easily, and vampires certainly don't. You're different with me and it's real. I can feel it when you look at me, when you touch me."

He let his arm fall from his lap, catching the back of my calf and holding it, a way to be closer while being mindful of my triggers.

"I wish I was as certain as you. It's so easy for me to slip back into that skin; comfortable, even. I hate that it hurts you to see me like that. I feel like you believe in me more than you should, more than I believe in myself."

"I believe in you because you've been there for me. I know that you wouldn't hurt me intentionally. You're not James and you never were, even at your worst. You were following orders."

"I could have left. She couldn't stop me and we both knew it. I choose to stay."

"You had nothing else, nowhere else to go. You have me now; I'll always be waiting for you."

"I wish I could absolve myself as easily as you seem to forgive me."

"I wish I could erase the scars on my body and mind as easily as you overlook them. We all need someone to see the best in us, I guess."

"I need you to know something, Alice."

"Anything, treasure."

He releases my leg and carefully loosens my arms, turning so we are face to face, taking both of my hands in his.

"I'll never let myself be him around you. You don't have to be afraid. I do it in our training because I can't get through it any other way. If I ever think for a second that I could hurt you, that I could be… that, around you, I'll be gone. I can't do that to you."

"Don't say that, please. I know you won't hurt me, I know that's not you."

"What if you're wrong, Alice? What if I wake up one morning and realize that's all I've ever been, a wolf playing sheep for the most incredible girl in the universe? I would leave, Alice, I would have to. I could never be him."

"You're right, which is why that won't happen."

"If it does."

"It won't. I'll see it, we'll fix it. I know I have nightmares and I look at you like that and I know it kills you, but in my right mind, deep in my soul, I know that you'd never hurt me."

"If I ever hurt you I'm gone."

"No, it doesn't work like that. You don't get to give up, to leave. I won't live in fear that you'll slip and I'll lose you forever. If I mean anything to you then I get a say too. I couldn't live like that."

"I couldn't live with myself."

"I need you, please. You're not him, you never will be. Please, don't make ultimatums like that. They hurt more than any slip up ever could."

"God, you're too good for me."

"I can't live without you. Please…"

He reaches for me and I melt into his arms, the fear of losing him driving away any fear of his proximity. I pulled myself onto his lap, holding us as close as I can manage. I can't lose him. I know he doubts himself, but I know that he'll never go back. I have to believe it enough for both of us right now; just like he believes that I'll make it through this. I take a deep breath, inhaling his scent. If he's there I can make it, even through the agony of tomorrow's training, and the next day. We'll make it together.


End file.
